Silk and Silver
by Firedance28
Summary: Winterwidow: Sometimes James just needs to be taken out of his head for a while. Natalia (Romanova) helps. But this is not a "thing" with them. Warning: here there be smut. MASSIVE spoilers for the 2nd Captain America. Thank you to tumblr's exorin for beta reading.


**A/N:** This is smut. It's actually kinda on the kinky side so be warned.

This story is _complete_ so following it is a waste of your time.

* * *

_**Silk and Silver**_

This is not a thing with them. Not a _thing_, not like ice sliding down Natalia's back as James thrusts in her, her thick, red curls wrapped around the fingers of his left hand and two of his right pushed in her mouth. Not a thing in the way that Natalia will occasionally trace the point of one of her knives over the hard, clean planes of his chest and stomach as she rides him until he can't _breathe_ is a thing

This is… it's not even necessarily sexual.

Half the time it leaves him so shaken, so shattered down to the very core of him, that there is nothing for them to do except curl around each other until his pieces fall back together. She is shaken by it, too, he can tell. Her hands tremble as she slides her fingers through his hair and she murmurs to him in Russian, her voice caught and held halfway between consolation and prayer. They kiss for long, lazy minutes after and for a while everything inside his head is quiet and still.

He does not ask often because he is afraid it will lose its potency, though Natalia reassures him that it is not true with a smiling mouth against the back of his shoulder and fingers tugging on his hair.

But SHIELD has been riding his back about everything and nothing and the phantom pain in his left arm is just _too much. _Steve is looking at him in the way that tells him that he is not being _seen_, and James has to ask her. Natalia's response is a long, slow kiss and a gentle push toward the bathroom. He nods and goes.

James takes his time in the shower, scrubbing every inch of his body and combing his fingers through) his hair, the hot water sliding over his skin, making the mirror fog over. He does not touch himself although the anticipation coiling low in his abdomen makes him want to. Not to get off, but to clear his head. Still, for a while he is not his to do with as he pleases. He has placed himself in Natalia's power.

He steps out of the shower as soon as he is clean and dries himself off quickly and thoroughly. His hair has been cut short again recently so it does not matter that it is still slightly damp. He takes a moment to look himself over in the slightly clouded mirror to make sure he looks presentable. Then he turns and leaves the bathroom.

Natalia sits in their armchair, her ankles crossed. Her long, crimson hair is pinned up in gentle waves and her lipstick is a matching shade. The look on her face- her smiling mouth and steady, green eyes boring into his- sends James to his knees at her feet. He bends automatically, pressing both palms flat on the floor, and presses his lips against the suede of her heels. She could put the spiked heel on either of them through his throat in a moment and the idea makes him catch his breath. She smiles down at him and touches the side of his face, then his neck.

He knows what's coming and it makes him feel more than a little dizzy. All the same, he sits back on his heels and raises his head to expose his throat, closing his eyes. The collar is warm from her hand and heavy around his neck, pressing on his adam's apple every time he swallows. A shudder goes down his spine and he relinquishes the last of his control to her. He reacts badly to this sometimes, but not now. The weight is an anchor, a reassurance.

"хороший мальчик…" she tells him. _Good boy_.

He would kill anyone else who said that to him.

Natalia stands and the sable silk of her dress flutters around her legs. She is covered from her breasts to the floor, although the high slit up the side of the dress reveals her legs when she sits a certain way and the silk clings to the shape of her body like a second skin. She wears no jewelry.

His eyes are not on her dress.

There is a long, silk cord hanging from Natalia's hand. It is burgundy and thick and nowhere near strong enough to hold him. It will.

She threads it through the loop on the back of his collar. "Put your arms behind your back and hold onto your forearms."

The cord snakes around his arms, binding them together. James closes his eyes, swaying slightly on his knees.

Natalia reaches out and steadies him with a hand. "Breathe, Yasha."

He does and he regains some of his balance. Once she sees that he is ready, she continues, slowly tying the cord around his chest. It's a good color. The burgundy makes the blue of his eyes seem brighter and the colors of his hair and skin seem richer, more saturated. She's told him in the past that her art is dancing, but this, he thinks privately, is art, too. She manages to make even the cold metal of his left arm seem like something beautiful, more than just a well-crafted weapon. The silk glides over his skin and it feels just enough like her trailing fingers that his next inhale comes as a gasp. Her hand slides over his right shoulder, then his chest and she pinches gently at a nipple.

His breath catches again and arousal floods the space where anticipation had been, its flow turning from a trickle to a roar as he realizes that she has every intention of having him.

Natalia continues with a satisfied smile on her crimson lips, carefully coiling the cord around James's torso. He can feel knots forming despite the fact that Natalia is not following any pattern or procedure outside her own creation. The cord follows the lines of muscle in his abdomen and the sharp cut of his hipbones, crisscrossing over his chest and stomach. It restrains his movement and makes him just a little bit more aware of each inhale that makes the cord tighten around his ribs. When she nudges the inside of his thigh, James opens his legs without a hint of shame.

She is the only one who may do this to him- who _can_ do this. Natalia is making him helpless with a length of silk he could tear free of in a few moments thanks to his left arm and he will _never_ stop her. That cord is winding around his thighs now and looping around his ankles, binding him into the kneeling position he is in currently. He and Natalia have done this often enough that it is easy for her to bind him so that he cannot try to close his legs without the rope biting into his skin. The binding is tight to begin with, a constant reminder of Natalia's claim on him, but no where near tight enough to hurt his circulation.

"Yours…" he breathes, unbidden.

Her smile it brilliant and earnest and it makes his chest hurt. "Mine. Мой Джеймс."

She kisses him and James can taste her lipstick on his tongue and his mouth. When she pulls back, there is red smeared across his mouth and on his teeth. He licks his lower lip and opens his eyes. His gaze lifts no higher than Natalia's mouth and he sees her swipe a thumb under her lower lip to fix the red paint. She sits back down on the armchair and slides her hands up the slit of her skirt, opening it slowly. And James has to swallow _hard_ because she's wearing garters, the straps tucked under her panties, and… how did he not notice that before? And he knows what she is going to ask him to do and he _wants_.

Natalia lifts her hips and slowly, very slowly, slides her panties down her legs and off. They snag for a moment on one of her spike heels before falling to the floor. James waits, his breath trapped in his throat, as she parts her legs and hooks one knee over the arm of the chair. The leather is dark against her skin and he wishes for a moment, desperately and in some vague way, that he had some skill with pencils and paper because he needs to capture this moment, to set it down permanently.

He does not realize that he's made a noise- a whine or a moan of some kind- until Natalia's fingers are on his lips and she is meeting his eyes with a smile.

"Come here."

He goes to her and moving at all like this is difficult but he can manage it, manage the few inches he needs to shuffle forward so she is within reach. James leans forward, the piping on the edge of the cushion pressing against his chest between two loops of the silk rope. She moves her hips forward and he groans too loudly as he lowers his mouth so that he can lap at her folds. The heel of her other shoe is pressing into his arm, his right one, the flesh one. She tied them that way on purpose, he thinks, and the little, blunt discomfort is more than welcome. He wants to stay here, stay down and out of his head.

She lets him go slowly for a while until the touch turns from languorous to teasing. Then she cups the back of his head and pushes him closer to her. James does as he is asked, focusing his attentions on her clit. Natalia's back curves and he feels the muscles of her thighs tense. She is gasping now, her hips giving little, aborted jerks as he pushes her quickly toward the edge. Twice, she tugs on his hair, makes him pull back and prolong it and each time he kisses the inside of her thigh in a silent thank you for giving him more time.

By the time Natalia decides that he is allowed to make her come, that he has earned it, she is flushed and trembling, the insides of her thighs damp and her hair starting to come free of its pins. Her lower lip is full- swollen- from how many times she has bitten it. James is faring no better. He aches with arousal and his muscles are tensed to the point of trembling. His jaw had begun to ache a while ago but he does not care.

He opens his mouth, pushes his tongue into her and fucks her with it until she drags his mouth up to her clit with a hand on his collar. She comes with a cry not long after and holds him in place until his head is spinning from lack of air. He falls back when she allows him to move, his eyes closed and his chest heaving under the burgundy rope. He sways, overbalances, and falls onto his left shoulder.

Natalia stands slowly, a little shakily, and turns him onto his back. His weight rests on his arms and he knows that position will not be comfortable for long but right now he just doesn't care. She settles between his thighs and he pushes his hips towards her as much as he can, keening quietly. His cock is hard and leaking against his stomach, staining the silk ropes. She laughs quietly, gently, and leans down to kiss him. James presses up into it as much as he can, lips opening under hers, his hips trying and failing to rise. The silk ropes tighten on his legs and he falls back, whining softly.

"Hush." Natalia orders and slaps him once, lightly, across the face and his head turns with it. It's almost all sound but it brings a flush to his cheeks none the less.

He nods quietly and closes both his mouth and his eyes but only for a moment, as both fly open again when he hears the cap of a plastic bottle snap open . He makes no sound. James tenses automatically, trying to close his legs, because as much as he likes the feeling of her fingers or one of their toys in him, it's not what he wants right now. It's too personal, too much contact, and there is always a note of embarrassment under the pleasure of it.

She calms him with a gloved hand on his thigh and a kiss on the dip between his collarbones. He should have known. She knows him too well to push him the wrong direction.

Her other hand- gloved as well and slick with lube- curls around the base of his cock and James shudders. It's slick and her hold is just loose enough that it doesn't actually hurt but firm enough that it's going to feel like she's ripping a climax out of him when she allows him to come. He lies as still as he can under her as she begins to move her hand. She twists her wrist on each upstroke and brushes a slippery thumb over the head. He shudders, the muscles in his thighs tensing and trembling as she pushes him closer and closer to the edge and _fast_. Too fast. James makes a broken noise of protest, shaking his head weakly.

"Shh, James…" Natalia breathes. "I know."

He nods and goes boneless under her hands.

Natalia makes him wait just the way he needs her to. She works him until he's hanging on the edge of orgasm then slows the movement of her hand. Her fingers barely brush against his cock now and the glove she's wearing is so slick- she must have added more lube at some point- that there is almost no friction. He's squirming and gasping under her. His hair is stuck to his forehead with the sheen of sweat that's collected there. His chest and abdomen are shiny with it as well and it mingles with the lube dripping onto his stomach. His eyes, usually pale, icy blue, have gone dark and unfocused when he manages to keep them open and his lips have been bitten red.

The frustration makes James want to scream.

He doesn't.

Natalia does not allow him release, even after he can't string together a coherent thought. Every twist of her wrist has him begging in both Russian and English for her to please, _please_ let him come.

She doesn't.

Natalia does not allow him release until he is lying quiet and perfectly still under her aside from the trembling in his thigh muscles. She gives him two quick, firm strokes, swiping a thumb over the head of his cock.

"You may come, James."

He does, shuddering and silent. his back curving off of the floor. James opens his mouth as if to scream but there is no sound, not even a rush of air. He squeezes his eyes shut tight.

Natalia waits until James goes limp again then strips off her gloves. Her hands are cool against his flushed skin as she gently pulls him up onto his knees in front of her.

"You did so well, my James." She murmurs, pressing a kiss to his temple. "You're so wonderful… So good like this. My sweetheart..."

Natalia lets one hand settle on the back of his neck over the black leather collar. Her other hand travels down his back and down to his ankles. It only takes her a moment to open the knots and then the ropes go slack. She quickly unwinds the rope form where it's crisscrossed around his chest and abdomen.

"Shh…" Natalia breathes, brushing a thumb over his cheek. "It's okay, darling

James opens his eyes and blinks. Fresh tears slide down his cheeks and off his jaw to splash onto his neck. She wipes them away and kisses him once, gently, on each cheek. The tears continue to fall as she helps him slowly to his feet, but he's smiling. His muscles feel rubbery both from his being bound and from the rush of endorphins. James is pliant, obedient, as Natalia draws him into the bathroom and helps him to clean off again. He kneels in the shower while she runs a warm, wet washcloth over his skin and murmurs to him in Russian, telling him how much she loves him, how grateful she is that he trusts her as much as he does. Her hands only tremble a little and that eases quickly.

Gradually, James comes back to himself, his mind clearing and the tears stopping. He turns his head and kisses her once, gently, on the mouth. She makes a face, but kisses him nonetheless before pushing a toothbrush into his hand. She cleans her teeth as well then removes her dress, high heels, garters and stockings, and bra.

When she reaches up to remove the collar sitting heavy around his neck, James shakes his head.

"I'd… like to keep this on for a while."

Natalia nods in understanding and takes him by the hands. "You should have some water."

"Later? I'd like to hold you for a while."

She gives him a sweet, crooked smile and a little nod and walks backwards into their bedroom. James follows her easily and, once they are both settled under the sheets, wraps his arms- flesh _and_ metal- around her.

Then he kisses her forehead, closes his eyes, and breathes.

But it's not a thing with them.


End file.
